Coming Clean
by McNovelist
Summary: It is not unusual for Gibbs' team to be a little shaken up after a bad case. But this time, the fearless leader has a particularly bad feeling about DiNozzo. After doing a little investigating of his own, he uncovers a secret and won't rest until his senior field agent is safe once more. Major father/son, absolutely no slash.
1. Chapter 1

The team sat in a solemn stillness at the close of another long week. The office was gradually falling darker as workers from the surrounding desks switched off their lamps and retreated one by one to the elevator for the weekend's reprieve. The bullpen was silent but for the slow and soothing buzz of McGee's snores; sleep had taken the agent slouching backwards in his chair, his battered suit jacket draped over his chest. It was a testament to the nature of the week their fearless leader had put them through that said leader did not react to McGee's outward display of exhaustion. Instead, Gibbs looked rather pensive; leaning back in his chair, he subconsciously scrubbed a palm against his chin, as though to will away the danger the three agents that sat before him had been placed in this week.

To his right, Ziva David absent-mindedly rearranged the stationary on her desk over and over again, as if desperate for some sense of purpose to distract from the feelings of helplessness they all felt only hours before, when it seemed they had finally met their match. Her eyes were glazed, her stare absent, as her hands repeated the unnecessary shuffling of staplers and highlighters. After some consideration, Gibbs shifted his gaze to the only remaining agent in the room.

He was instantly greeted with a stark and unexpected contrast. Tony DiNozzo was seated upright at his desk, his glare intent on the words appearing on his computer monitor as his hands worked the keyboard. Every now and then he scrunched his brow, pausing only momentarily to glance downwards at the manilla case files scattered around his computer, before ironing out his expression and continuing his work.

Gibbs had told them all that their reports would keep; he didn't expect anything more from his loyal team than for them to head home for the weekend and rest up. But, as per usual, they put up their routine protests of _we're staying if you're staying, _albeit particularly half heartedly, and the result lay in front of him. He suspected they all needed to cope in their own unique ways. McGee needed to return to a state of safety and ignorance, thus he drifted happily into a few short moments of sleep where the horrors of the week could not reach him. Ziva, on the other hand, felt the desperate need to restore some sort of order to a life and team which were almost lost not hours ago, so she worked fruitlessly on restoring order to her desk. But DiNozzo was always different. He would keep his mind occupied by carrying the weight of the entire team on their shoulders while they rested and coped, and in turn, _he will cope too, _thought Gibbs.

They carried on in this manner for a while longer until Tony broke the unintended rhythm of the evening by cautiously lifting his bruised and aching body out of his chair and retrieving the now complete report. Gingerly, he slowly shuffled towards Gibbs' desk and placed the pile of papers before the still reflective agent.

"My report, Boss." He stated the obvious while holding his gaze anywhere but his boss' astute glare, which was now focused on the senior field agent, clearly not missing his reluctance to return the eye contact.

"You didn't need to do it tonight, Tony," Gibbs murmured quietly, almost as if not to break the other agents out of their own states of recovery.

"Well," started DiNozzo, who had apparently lost control of his hands, which were now scratching nervously at the back of his head. "Thought I'd just get it done, didn't want this one on my mind all weekend."

"Uh huh," Gibbs nodded with a regretful smirk, knowing full well that this case would be haunting his senior field agent all weekend, if not longer, regardless of whether or not a meaningless stack of papers were neatly assembled on his desk. "Come on," he nodded his head towards the elevator. "Let's go back to mine, there's a half eaten pizza in the fridge with your name on it."

"Oh, that's alright, Boss," Tony answered, still finding it immensely difficult to maintain eye contact with Gibbs, although entirely unsure of why. "There's a couple of things I want to do tonight. Just gonna head home now and, ugh -" He picked absent-mindedly at his fingernails, as if purging them of the week's uncleanliness - "get started on them," he finished, with considerable effort.

Never removing his glare from the agent, Gibbs watched on as DiNozzo gathered up his things, mumbled a goodbye and made his way into the elevator.

Gibbs moved to the rain sodden window as he watched DiNozzo exit the car park. Racking his brain, he kept a concern eye on the car until, after many bends and turns, it disappeared along with its puzzling driver into the night.

Next chapter to come very soon. While I know where this one is going, feel free to review and let me know what you'd like to see next; I'm always open to incorporating your awesome ideas. Thanks again for all the lovely feedback for my last story 'Broke' - it always makes me smile.


	2. Chapter 2

After watching DiNozzo's car vanish into the night, Gibbs roused Ziva and McGee one by one and sent them home. They both showed preliminary signs of protest at this request until they, somewhat belatedly, noticed their teammate had also left the building. Quietly, they gathered their bags and coats, mumbled their goodnights, and disappeared into the elevator.

Finally, Gibbs let out a long and weighted sigh. 'DiNozzo,' he began mumbling to himself. 'What am I going to do about you?'

While he had tried to ignore it for weeks, to give his agent some privacy, there was no denying that something was wrong. The way DiNozzo had been nervous for weeks, unable to look him in the eye and fiddling with his hair was one thing, but the way Gibbs _knew_ the stress of the past week would affect him was another.

To ignore it, and demonstrate a wealth of trust in the man who had earned it from him time and time again; or to act on it, and perhaps belittle the agent, encroach on his private life and invade his privacy… Yet possibly save him from something far worse.

Feeling no better after what was at least thirty minutes of silent musings in the empty bullpen, Gibbs collected his few possessions, rode the elevator down to the basement car park, entered the Challenger, and began his route home.

But he couldn't drive in peace, he couldn't put the thoughts at rest, and the whole drive was consumed by doubt. _To check on him or to leave him._ Over and over again he weighed up the pros and cons, trying to convince himself first that he was imagining everything, and then that something was seriously wrong.

When he finally reached the highway the decision was simplified. _Left for home, right for DiNozzo._ Approaching the red light slower than any member of his team could vouch for in the history of Gibbs' driving, he hovered between the two lanes while racking his brain. Suddenly, he jerked into the left, and prepared himself for the journey home.

But as he sat before the glistening red lights, his mind would not be put to rest. Something about the way Tony had picked at his hands, unable to look him in the eye, was oddly familiar.

As soon as the light changed to green, he hit the accelerator hard and swerved into the right lane. Met with a chorus of horns and shouts, he waved absently to the driver who had so kindly 'let him in,' and set off down the highway for DiNozzo's apartment.

Now it came down to the facts. Gibbs had sent Ziva and McGee home no more than ten minutes after DiNozzo left the navy yard, and then spent thirty minutes at his desk before leaving the bullpen. Providing DiNozzo's apartment was the senior field agent's first stop of the night, he should have been there for at least half an hour by now, allowing him sufficient time to get started on the so called 'things' he had in mind.

His gut churned. His foot hit the gas. Instinct had kicked in.

After a retreat to his usual style of driving, Gibbs had pulled up in front of DiNozzo's building within five minutes. Fumbling with the keys in his pocket, he pulled out the spare DiNozzo had given him for emergencies and unlocked the building's security door without second thought. Rushing up the stairs, he swung around the corner to DiNozzo's apartment ready to give his front door the same treatment, stopping himself only just before turning the key.

He froze. There was no concrete evidence that anything was actually wrong with DiNozzo. What if 'things to do' was code for having a woman over, and the picking at his nails was an accidental display of nervousness for the night that lay ahead?

Withdrawing the key from the lock as quietly as he could, Gibbs schooled his expression from panic to calm and knocked rapidly on the door. With an ear pressed against the cool wood, he listened closely for any signs of movement inside the apartment.

Ten seconds passed. Twenty seconds. Thirty. _Knock knock knock._ A minute.

He took the key from his hand and thrust it into the lock once more, this time showing no hesitation before turning the door and striding into the room.

But there was no preparing for what he saw next.

'Tony - ' Gibbs started.

'Oh. Hey, Boss,' he slurred.

DiNozzo swayed on the spot in front of him, giving Gibbs only seconds to shuffle forwards and catch the senior field agent in his arms before he collapsed to the floor.

**_A/N: As always, thanks so much for reading this. I would love to hear your thoughts, so please feel free to leave a review. Next instalment coming soon!_**


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